Meteorbound
by SunShark
Summary: When you're lost, the goal is to get home no matter what. Even if you're dragging around an silver haired amnesiac with no social skills whatsoever. OC insert.
1. Chapter 1

So I'm jumping on board the OC band wagon. It actually really is pretty hard to find stories where the person doesn't automatically know where they are, so I'm giving it a shot.

Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII

* * *

The thing is though, I'm on top of a mountain with no reception. The guy is part buried in foliage, looks at least a foot taller and fifty some pounds heavier than I am, and I'm already carrying a twenty pounds of camping supplies. The best option would be to hike back down until there is reception, and call a forest ranger.

It took an hour for me to get here though. Maybe the guy just got drunk and passed out? There aren't any bottles around him, though he is half naked. He…also doesn't have a giant camping pack with him. Who sneaks up here just to get drunk anyway? Maybe he got jumped by bears?

I take a quick glance around, but no mugger bears jump out of the trees.

Then again, there is only one road up to here, and I have a friend who's supposed to meet me at the camp site, considering that I haven't gone camping before. We're watching shooting stars tonight. He got delayed by traffic, so in about an hour he should come across the unconscious guy too. He'll know what to do.

…though, maybe he won't see him. Maybe I should make a sign to point to the guy?

It takes me about ten minutes to find a decent sized stick. In that time I realized I should probably have checked if the guy's alive or not.

I don't particularly want to touch him. I do, however, have a stick to poke him with.

Poke.

Wait a bit.

Pooooooke.

Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke.

"Hello? Helloooo?"

He doesn't react. However, looking closely, his chest is moving (very slightly) up and down, and I let out a sigh. If he didn't wake from that (and I know from personal experience that many do wake up) then he's probably well out of it. I am safe for the time being.

Now for a sign, though honestly a flag would be easier. I have….a headband, a roll of bandages, and some spare shirts. To be honest, I don't want to use any on them. But…if I do expect my friend to come across him later, he should know to take the shirt with him later, right? So it's not as if I'll lose anything by doing this, right?

(He'd better know to take my shirt with him.)

With that, I slip my shirt over one end of the stick and try to stab the other end into the ground. Turns out the end with my shirt is actually sharper, so I flip the stick around, put my shirt on the other end, and then stab it into the ground. Done.

I look back at Mr. Unconscious. Considering that he's half naked, maybe the shirt would do better on him. It was one of those extra extra large shirts they give out for free at college that I was planning to use as a pajama, so it ought to fit him.

But wait, what about the flag plan?

Oh, who needs a flag? I can just drag him into the middle of the road and someone would most definitely see him.

With that, I plod my way over to the guy, grab a shoulder and heave.

Holy crap he's heavy.

Heave!

Something silver rises out of the ground after his head, and I realize that what I mistook as dried grass was actually three feet worth of silver hair. I pause for a moment and shake my head. Just who is this guy?

Setting him upright and against a tree, I then proceed to stuff him into the shirt. It's harder than it looks, trying to dress an unconscious person. The shirt actually turns out to be a bit tight on him, but it has to be warmer than nothing.

…though come to think of it, I have a blanket too.

But I was going to use that for myself!

…then again, the guy's unconscious. And a lot worse off than myself. Plus I've already gotten involved.

You know, maybe it's not the best idea to leave the unconscious person by himself. Help is only an hour away, right?

I grimace, but put my bag down anyway and make myself comfortable. Mr. Unconscious is tilting a little too far to the right, so I drag him back upright. He starts tilting again, and maybe it would be easier to leave him on the floor but the floor has bugs so, I yank him up again. And plop next to him just in case. His head ends up flopping over mine, and he's still pretty heavy, but it's only for an hour anyway so I bear with it.

An hour's not that long.

* * *

Maybe he got into another traffic jam.

* * *

A five way pile-up maybe?

* * *

Oh, this book had a nice ending.

* * *

The sun's setting, I have killed eight mosquitoes, and I am going to murder my friend. Where the heck is he? We had plans! Where's this meteor shower you promised me?

Meanwhile Sleeping Beauty still hasn't woken up yet. He doesn't snore, he doesn't drool, his stomach didn't even grumble when I waved my granola bar under his nose. He doesn't even have those eyelid twitches; I pulled back his eyelid once to check if he even had eyes (very nice green ones, in fact) and he didn't react at all. All he does is breath, really, really steadily.

That, and lean really heavily on my shoulder. I guess I should be thankful he doesn't drool.

…Ah shoot, he doesn't have a concussion, does he? A concussion would probably keep him out for a while. Maybe the inside of his brain was steadily bleeding out. You're not supposed to jostle people with concussions, I think.

And it's been hours by now. Whelp. If he hasn't died yet he probably won't?

(I hope).

At this point, there's not much of a point in sticking around. Even with camping gear available, I don't know how to set it up, so this trip is already a bust. Plus, the bottom of the mountain has reception, where I could call for an ambulance. And yell at my friend for ditching me.

Mind made up, I stand (and ouch my muscles are sore), put on my backpack, and get ready to drag deadweight down the mountain. I can…hold his top half and walk backwards. Or his legs, though with how rocky the path is it's probably not a good idea. Or, I don't know, any sort of method that doesn't involve me carrying him directly.

First attempt made me realize there was no way I was carrying my pack _and_ the guy's body any length of distance. We barely went five meters and I already need a break.

Sun's setting fast though. And I can't see evening stars, so it's cloudy too, and while the weather report said there was only a 5% chance of rain, well…that's still 5% chance of rain. It means I can only take down either the guy or my pack down, not both.

…Dammit, this guy owes me so damn much! I put down my pack and look for a high branch to hang it from. Don't know if that will keep raccoons from ransacking it but it should be better than the ground at least.

There's one jutting edge I can reach if I jump. Got it.

Wait I need some stuff. Like my car keys since I'm parked at the bottom. And flashlight, my phone battery's not going to last if I use it like that. Phone's in my pocket. A jacket helps too since it might be colder at night. And…I guess the blanket's also useful for transport.

I need to jump off a nearby rock a few times to get my pack back down. Dammit I'm wasting so much time!

I end up tying the blanket like a cape on the guy's neck. If I get tired and need to drag him I can just untie it and rearrange it. Small things go in pockets, flashlight ends up being tied to my belt loops since I need both hands to drag the guy on my back, and even then his feet are plowing the ground. I wonder where his shoes went. I also want to invest in helmet flashlights, those look convenient.

I'd like to say we made good time down the mountain after that, but honestly I was always two seconds away from rolling down myself, especially when the slope got steeper. The light kept waving back and forth wildly, and the sound of the guy's feet dragging in the dirt wasn't loud enough to drown out the nightlife. No wolves yet, but plenty of owls. And crickets. And random twig snapping leaf rustling in general.

I try not to think of my own heavy breathing and how much my neck is killing me. My legs are already on back-up emergency power.

And of course, that's when it begins to rain. Are you kidding me.

Everything gets wet rather quickly. I hoped it was going to stay a mild summer shower, but no, it had to be one of those bucket ones. 5% chance my ass.

You'd think sliding the guy through mud would be easier. The rain just added fifty pounds to both of us.

Eventually we get to the point where it's just too unstable for me to carry him further. There's literally a tiny mudfall over the next tangle of roots, and I'd have to slide the way down myself, never mind carrying someone. I pause for a bit to check my phone, but I guess we hadn't traveled as far as I thought since the signal bar was still gone.

I glance back at the guy. Still dead asleep.

Whelp, I guess this is it.

I drag the guy under a tree with relatively less wet compared to everywhere else. We're not lucky enough to have a rock under there as well, but I take the blanket and drape it over the lower branches as a tiny shelter. Maybe it would have been better to have at least tried to set up the tent way back there, but it's too late now.

I prop Sleeping Beauty underneath the setup and feel just a bit proud of myself. It's not exactly water proof and he is soaked already, but at least he's not getting any wetter.

New plan: go down myself and call for help.

It really is the best option at this point. I'd be faster on my own, he's clearly not going anywhere, and my phone would work at the bottom. And then I could call for an ambulance for help…or a forest ranger I guess, since the ambulance can't travel this high up. Plus the sooner I get someone else to deal with this the sooner I can get dry and not catch a cold.

…what if he catches pneumonia out here and dies?

Well…that wouldn't be my fault would it? I mean he was already out here unconscious to begin with and maybe I should have gone for help earlier but he wasn't running a fever earlier though without my body heat maybe he will and ohmygodwhatifnooneelsecanfindhimwhyme?!

And it's still raining buckets. Bits of light flash through the sky, and I groan out loud. I don't need lightning right now dammit! Now there's a risk that the path might change and then absolutely no one would find him, or the tree he was under would be struck down, or catch on fire, or the path down might be blocked already. Why did this have to happen now? Shit!

It's really hard to open my eyes in the rain, but I'm somewhere between panicking and pissed off at the moment so I squint up and do it anyway, focusing on the tiny flashes of light.

This is the part that I'll always look back to and regret.

"What the hell, dammit!" I shout at the sky, "You don't get to just dump this on me! What did I ever do to you!" My voice cracks a bit, but my face is already wet and no one can hear me anyway. Something rumbles in the distance. "Give me a sign, dammit! Anything!"

I close my eyes, since the rainwater actually stings about and I'm already feeling a bit embarrassed at my dramatic outburst. What was I expecting, the rain to suddenly clear up and leave?

It takes a few breaths to get myself back under control. I'm calm now. I am a calm, rational being, and I'm going to decide what to do in a calm, logical manner. Who's panicking? Not me.

Of course, the minute I open my eyes I see something giant, glowing and green streaking right at me.

* * *

Turns out the meteor shower occurred right on schedule, regardless of the rain.

I thought I had died…for a full two minutes. Then the ground started feeling itchy, so I got up. And found two (glowing?) green eyes staring straight at me.

"You're awake!" I shout, pointing at him. I thought I was the only one hit but hey, company is welcome at this point.

He blinks. "As are you," he says, and wow his voice is pretty deep. He would probably look pretty nice too, if he wasn't splattered with mud in a too small shirt and if I wasn't still annoyed at him.

I squint at him. "So why were you asleep like that in the first place?" I say, surreptitiously looking around for the meteor. If it bothered to hit us it should at least stick around. "And where are we anyway?" There ought to be a steep tangle of tree roots around, I would know. Tree roots don't disappear like that.

"I don't know."

My head snaps towards him. "To both?" I ask. "Yes," he says. I continue to stare at him, and he actually starts getting annoyed, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows. "Believe me," he speaks after a bit, "this was not my first choice of lodging."

That was so absurd that I giggled. 'Lodging' indeed. "Fine, fine," I wave it off, "so neither of us has any clue what's going on. Fantastic." Ah shoot, should probably keep sarcasm in check.

"Cool. So. I'm June, and I carried your deadweight body for about a mile in the rain before we got hit by a meteor. Nice to meet you." Opps, guess I'm still annoyed.

He just stares at me though, brows furrowed. Jeez, what is he waiting for, and invitation? "What's your name?" I end it saying.

His brows only furrow further.

"I don't know."

* * *

And there's the first chapter! It was actually really fun to write, no wonder people write OC stories. June's not going to have any notable abilities any time soon (kind of like how I actually am). Updates should happen once a week for the first 3 chapters, after which they will become increasing sporadic.

Hope you enjoyed it, and please review! Reviews make for better authors!


	2. Chapter 2

Yay second chapter! And thanks for all your support so far, I was really worried how an OC story might be received. Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII

* * *

It…didn't get much better after that.

"So where are you from?"

"Do you have a job?"

"Any friends? Hobbies?"

"How about a favorite animal? Food?"

"Okay, what about least favorite…person?"

"I don't know."

I threw my hands into the air. "Okay, so you don't know a lot of things. Fine let's do an easy one then." I point at his head. "What color is your hair?"

He actually looks. It's a quick flicker of his eyes, blink and you miss it, but he looks. "Silver," he says.

For Pete's sake.

"What about your eye color?" Try getting out of that one.

His face is basically stuck in 'annoyed mode'. Maybe his glare would be scary, but we both look like wet cats. He doesn't say anything, proving my point.

"So," I puff importantly, "we've established that –"

"-that I'm missing information pertaining to myself but not that of general knowledge. This condition falls under the category of retrograde amnesia," he says, and I deflate.

"Yeah, that." Way to steal my thunder Sleeping Beauty.

Except now he's no longer sleeping, and is in fact getting up and _walking away_.

"Wait!" I shout, scrambling up myself, "Where are you going?"

He doesn't even look back. "Getting information," he says.

Oh. That sounds like a good idea. "Hey! Hey wait! I'm coming with you!" I jog up to him, or at least try. I actually end up tripping and sprawling on my face, leg muscles protesting all the way. Nope, not rested enough.

He has the decency to stop walking at least. He still doesn't look back though. "Well?" he drawls, like I'm the one holding us up. Which I am. But it's his fault.

"See if I ever help you again, you ass," I grumble under my breath. I think he heard me, but I couldn't tell from this angle. It hurts, oh god it hurts, but I somehow get up anyway. There is no way I'm being left by myself in some unfamiliar forest.

Once I'm up, he starts walking again. I still need to jog to match his pace.

* * *

The minute we're out of the forest we're attacked by a giant wolf and a…flying…dumpy….dragon-like _thing_. I rub at my eyes, but it doesn't disappear.

"What is that."

"A Velcher Task and a Nibel wolf. Both monsters are native to the Western Continent," the guy says, though not necessarily to me. I think he's saying it aloud for himself too, because of his, well, amnesia.

Doesn't make it any less nonsensical though.

"Never heard of them," I reply. The…dragon thing, _Velcher Task_ is drooling a bit, and I briefly wonder if I'm dreaming. Then I shake my head – it doesn't matter, I hate dying in dreams.

Then both monsters start crouching, like they're about to jump. "Think we can out run them?" I ask, before realizing that I will most definitely be left behind if we run.

Thankfully he doesn't choose that option. Instead the guy grips the stick he picked up somewhere along the road and holds it like a bat (or a sword). "They're not that strong. I should be able to defeat them," he says.

I stare at him, but it doesn't look like he's backing down. There's really going to be a brawl between two impossible monsters and the guy who was dead to the world not too long ago. And I…have absolutely nothing to contribute. Except by being a loud vulnerability.

There's, well, a small selection of gravel on the ground, so I crouch down and grab two handfuls. If they come towards me, I can throw it in their eyes or something and run. That usually works in the movies.

The air is tense. The monsters start growling audibly, as an intimidation tactic, and the guy stares them down in return, his hair making a weak attempt at flowing in the wind.

Suddenly, he darts forward, and the battle begins…

* * *

…And ends. Rather quickly, with half the stick skewered through the wolf's neck and the dra – Velcher Task's face whacked in. The guy doesn't even have a scratch.

And then he just steps forward and _yanks_ the broken stick out of the monster, which was rapidly disintegrating into glowing, green…fireflies… that flew in every which way. Including towards me. I duck.

"Does…that…usually happen?" I ask, glancing at the bloody glowing mess. The more fireflies that flew out of it, the more I could make out something solid inside it all. By the time they all flew away, there was…a jar of stuff and a few coins. Did the monsters….eat this stuff?

"Yes". What? Oh, he answered. That doesn't explain anything though. The guy bends down to examine the stuff left behind. "A potion and 72 gil," he says, pocketing the items.

That's not informative at all. But I don't have the guts to ask someone who just _skewered a wolf_ at the moment. I assume gil is cash of some sort, like the kind they had in video games. Never knew they had a real world equivalent, but you learn something every day.

The heck is a potion though.

Meanwhile the guy casually discards his stick and continues onwards. "W-wait!" I shout, picking up the bloody stick and waving it, "don't you need a weapon?" He shrugs, his back still towards me. This jerk. "Are you planning to punch out anything else we meet?" I end up shrieking a bit.

"It'll be more effective than using that twig," he says. Sure, the bit of stick left is about the size of a rolling pin, but it was still useful wasn't it? Even if it is a rather pathetic weapon, it's not like me have many choices.

"We can just get another one! There's got to be tons of sticks that size in the forest!" I shout. He stops walking at that. "Come on, we've got another –" I look up and the sun is high in the sky (when did the sun get back in the sky?) " – six hours at least before sunset, we can afford to be prepared, can't we?"

* * *

This is how the two of us end up walking across the plains with a trail of fireflies in our wake, him wielding a stick and me carrying the back-ups. I felt like a side-kick – no, even worse, a pack mule. There was literally nothing I could contribute. My arms even started aching after the first minute - these were heavier than they looked.

I'd ask the guy to carry some more, but then I'd have to do the fighting. I don't think I can slash a giant green blood-sucking grasshopper thing (a Kyuvildun, apparently) in half with a _stick_.

Though he certainly makes it look easy.

Even if his hair is dry now and flopping all over his face.

A stray slash didn't even leave a mark on him. I would know, I was watching.

You know, maybe it isn't as hard as it looks.

The next time a green bug thing – Kyuvildun attacked us, I dropped the pile of sticks with a clatter and took a baseball stance, or at least something that I thought resembled it. The guy looks at me strangely.

"You're going to hit yourself like that," he says.

"No I'm not," I say, swinging my stick back.

"That has to be the worst fighting posture I have ever seen."

"Well how would you know?" He stays quiet at that. I focus on my opponent. It should jump at me, I hit it, it falls back, and I should be able to whack it until it disappears. Easy, straightforward plan.

The green – Kyuvildun jumps, I swing, and…

…miss…

"Shiii – ow!" The monster shoves its stinger straight into my right arm, and _sucks_. My arm feels numb and on fire at the same time, the monster is way heavier than it looks, and every single bit of it is sharp and spiny. It clings to my front, leaving scratches of blood, and it doesn't even seem to feel the blows from my left arm.

"Get off, get off, get off!"

Crap, I'm going to die as a raisin.

And then the monster dissolves, as does the stinger in my arm. I don't get the blood back though.

That…wasn't me.

I look up, panting (and when did I start breathing that hard?), and there's my guy, with his swishy silvery hair and a bloody stick. His entire face reads 'I told you so'.

And…yeah, he was right.

He doesn't offer a hand up, but it's not like I can't get up on my own. I couldn't quite look him in the eye at the moment, but…he did just save me from my own stupidity. So…

"Thanks," I mutter, picking up the sticks that I dropped. When I look up, he's walking away, again. From this angle it looks like half his hair was up in his face. Again.

Wait, I had a head band with me didn't I?

I reach for my pocket, and all the sticks clatter to the floor again. It's fine though, because there is a red elastic head band in my pocket that is with me instead of in my pack left in who-knows-where.

Object in hand, I run up to the guy. "Hey!" I shout. Well, he already stopped walking at least.

I shove the head band at his face and look straight at his chin. I still can't quite meet his eyes. He doesn't say anything, so I continue.

"It's a head band," I start, "for your hair. Since, you know, it's flying everywhere and looks kind of annoying. So." I chance a glance up, and wow his eyes are green. He's also looking at the head band, so I guess that's a good sign.

Something brushes against my fingers, and I let go of the object. He loops it several times and ties his hair back in a low ponytail. The color stands out against his hair, but with it all tied back it looks…not bad. Pretty good, in fact.

Then he turns around and starts walking again, with not even a thank you. I sigh. Looks like some things never change.

It does get easier to match his pace though.

* * *

About another hour of walking later, I finally get the guts to speak out loud.

"Hey."

No response, but his eyes flicker toward me. I take that as a sign to continue.

"You know how you said you can't remember your name?"

He stops looking and speeds up a tiny bit.

"Hey - hey wait, hear me out!" I shout, catching up. "I just don't want to call you 'hey you' or 'that guy' all the time, so. Is there anything you want to go by in the mean time?"

He slows down to a stop, and I use the time to drop my load and stretch. It feels so nice. I must be on my eighth wind or so by now, definitely going to crash soon.

The guy – pending name – sure takes his time though. He has another furrow in his brow. Is it that hard to pick a temporary name? Though, I guess since he's amnesiac, the subject gets more complicated.

"Do you want suggestions?" I venture. He doesn't say anything against it, so I continue. "Well…there's Bakura, Sesshomaru, Squalo…" Yes, I suggesting all the characters I could remember with white hair. Honestly, he didn't look like a Bob or Steven.

"…Gin, Gunter, um…Fate…" The longer I talked the more incredulous he looked. What, were my suggestions that bad?

"Kabuto, Near, Silver…wait no, that's a red head –"

"Silver works."

What?

I look at him. "Really?"

"Yes. It's obvious enough to sound like a nickname." He says, nodding. I stare at him longer, but he doesn't offer anything else.

Silver is…not bad for a temporary name. He could have gone for something cooler in my opinion, but it's his name. His name, his call.

…was that it? He didn't want an actual name… until he found his own?

That's kind of…neat.

"So. Silver," I say, testing it out. He actually turns towards me, and that's so much more response than I'd gotten out of him the entire day that I blink in silence for a moment. Wow.

I try it again. "Silver," I say, but he gets annoyed this time.

"What?"

Face to face communication is a wonderful thing. Too bad I don't have anything to talk about. Aw, but I don't want to waste this moment!

I quickly glance around and point at a blob that doesn't look like a mountain or tree to our right. "What do you think that it?"

He looks where I pointed and squints. "A rocket," he says, after a moment. I squint myself, but it's too far away. Seriously, how good was this guy's eyesight?

But…"Rockets mean space stations means people," I reason, "so we should head that way!" Civilization at last! Water! Band-Aids! Maybe even a spare bed!

He – no, Silver seemed to hesitate a bit, then started walking in that direction. I hurriedly picked up my load and did the same.

* * *

Walking, it seemed to take forever before the rocket came into focus. I'm using one of the sticks as a cane now, and Silver agreed to carry the rest. There weren't actually that many left, but he'd found out how to make them last a bit longer in battle.

Then suddenly, the rocket lit on fire.

"What in the world…" I mutter.

Then just as suddenly, the fire went out, and the rocket…shifted.

I squint. "Is it just me or is that rocket now tilted?"

He confirms it with a look. "It's tilted. It appears that its lift-off ended prematurely." I giggle a bit at that. A rocket that didn't even make it past lift-off. Premature didn't even cover it.

Still, it means that there are people manning the thing, most likely, and thus our best bet for help.

It's not like the area burnt down during the lift-off, right?

* * *

And that's the second chapter! (I needed tvtropes for the list of names, haven't read anything new for a while). Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

You guys, your support is so nice. Third chapter took a bit, but it's here!

Disclaimer: I don't own ffvii.

* * *

The town we entered was 'Rocket Town', according to the sign, and it was just….

Depressing.

There were the remains of streamers, and the aftermath of some sort of announcement, and it would make more sense if there were drunk carousing and chatter going on.

Not…this. There were people just standing around staring at the crooked rocket as if it had killed their dog. People cleaning up the streets did so sighing the entire time.

No one spoke, no one even looked at us.

On one hand, this meant we got to stay at the Shanghai Inn for free, since the owner was too preoccupied and just waved us in.

On the other hand, it meant we couldn't buy food there. But honestly, I had far too much of my shirt plastered to my body to care.

"I call shower first!" I called, shutting the bathroom door as soon as I found it. No one came pounding, so Silver was probably fine with it.

The hot water was heaven. I think half the water I used I also drank.

Halfway through the shower I realized I had nothing to change into. Wearing just a towel would have been fine at this point, but…peeking around, they didn't provide towels in the bathroom.

Crap, I was going to have to wear my old clothes again, wasn't I?

Well…I eyed my dirty clothes. Then I eyed the soap bar.

Might as well wash them while I'm here…?

* * *

"Shower's free!" I called, dripping a trail of water through the room to find – Silver, in a towel, squeezing water out of his hair.

Was there another bathroom? Wait…

"Where'd you find the towel?" He stopped for long enough to point at a closet, then resumed his activity. "Thanks."

It's a relief to get out of wet clothing. Even better, the towel is dry and doesn't smell funny. The bed is also free of bugs and other people's hair, which is very much appreciated.

Everything else could wait until the morning.

"Good night!"

I'm unconscious before I can hear his reply.

* * *

I can't say I'm disappointed to wake up in the same place I fell asleep, but…well, I dreamed. Or I thought I did.

Clothing's dry now. That's nice.

No toothbrush or toothpaste. Finger works.

No hairbrush. Fingers work too.

Still hungry. Yesterday found a total of 932 gil from dissolving monsters. Inn costs 100 gil per room plus breakfast, though we didn't pay last night. I think the bar downstairs sold food starting at 20 gil. Or was that drinks?

Silver has all the gil.

…where is Silver?

* * *

Silver is not at the bar. The bartender is, and is rapidly losing a fight with his eye bags. Yesterday's stubble and the stench of alcohol cling to his face.

But….food. Hungry.

I can cook. Can I cook?

"Excuse me?" The bartender groans in response.

"Um, do you…mind…if I…cook? I mean, I can't …pay right now, but I can make eggs and…pancakes for anyone else who comes in and you look (terrible) tired so I…can take over for a bit? As payment? I'm not a horrible cook, so you don't need to worry about food poisoning…" I trail off as the bartender clasps his hands around his ears and keels over on the bar.

My stomach growls.

"…so is that a yes?"

One of his hands flaps in my direction, so I take that as a yes.

* * *

I can make eggs. I've been through college, I can make eggs.

Granted, these eggs look a little funny, but they cook just like normal eggs. And smell just like normal eggs. Only the first one was slightly burnt; their electric stoves had a weird design. The yolks aren't entirely solid as I eat them straight out of the pan.

It's the most delicious eggs I've ever made that I'm aware of, in any case.

I think I burnt my tongue.

The bartender's gone off somewhere (probably back to bed), so I take that as permission to stuff a takeout cartoon with more eggs for later. Just in case. I'm sure he won't mind, I mean, that's what takeout containers are for –

"Excuse me?"

I drop everything and step a foot to the left. Then I notice the takeout container didn't quite land all the way on the counter and stepped back to grab it before it fell. Then I stand there stiffly and pretend nothing happened.

There's no way they didn't see that.

"Um…oh, I've never seen you here before. Are you Harley's new hire?"

Oh right, it's a woman's voice, so not the bartender. I'm safe, probably. And who's Harley?

…wait the bartender's name is _Harley_? (It doesn't suit him at all. Actually, come to think of it that could be the inn owner's name too).

"Er, sort of?" I smile awkwardly as I turn to face the…customer? Does she count as a customer if I don't technically work here? "Can I help you?" I can't actually, but I can call the bartender (Harley?) from wherever he is.

She's…wearing a lab coat. Over a yellow sweater-dress. That's, um…..okay I guess that's what science people do around here. She's also wearing these big, round glasses, and I could be wrong but…I think her eyes are red. The crying type of red.

"Oh, sorry, it's just that Harley's usually here in the mornings, and I like getting breakfast here…" She sniffs.

I look down. Well, my take-out container's full anyway.

"Want some eggs?"

* * *

Apparently Harley was _that_ kind of bartender. The one that everyone spills out their woes to, regardless of the time of day. It was not fun to take his spot.

"..and now I've ruined his dream and we're never going to get the funding to fix the rocket and it's all my fault!…"

I plop another stack of pancakes in front of her (I've graduated to pancakes now) and watch as she drowns it in the syrup I dug up from somewhere. Then I watch her inhale the whole thing into…somewhere in her body. She's tiny.

Shera here is a stress eater, with a preference for sweets.

"…and Cid's so _disappointed_ and he's mad at me because it's my fault I couldn't fix the tank fast enough…"

I plop a glass of apple juice in front of her. She swings it back and drains it in one gulp.

"…and I have to make it up to him somehow but he yelled at me to get out but I think he was drunk and oh god what if he turns into a drunkard and quits flying because of me…"

Shera, this guy sounds like an asshole and he's not your responsibility. If he's not willing to accept his part of the blame, then he's not worth sticking around. Then again, I still haven't heard the whole story yet, so I don't say anything.

"…but what do I do because stupid Palmer won't fund the space part of the space program because I asked him and he just stared at my chest and no independent source has that kind of money –"

"Hey Harley!" A guy barges in through the front door with a crate, "Can we return these? There wasn't much of a reason to open them last night…wait where's Harley? Oh hey Shera."

The crate's full of champagne bottles. Shera bursts into tears.

I glare at the guy, and he takes a step back.

"...I'll come back later." He says, and flees.

Shera's still crying, so I sigh and look around for some damp towels. Well, dry towels to dampen with cold water. Hey, it might help.

* * *

Shera sniffs one more time, but it looks like that's it for the waterworks.

Thank god.

"Sorry I…spilled everything onto you like that…even though you're new…you're really nice, you know."

"Er, happy to help?"

She hands me a handful of gil, which I assume is enough to cover everything that she ate. I could probably use the cash…but I stash it somewhere under the counter instead. That was the deal, make food to eat food. I'm sure there's other ways to earn money.

"Oh, wait," Shera searches through her many lab coat pockets and hands me…a green marble. "Here. One of the fire materia in the high powered converters was mastered yesterday, and it made this. It's a baby fire materia! We don't really need these for our machines; we usually import some of the more refined higher level ones, and even then the power level we use takes forever to level these up so we usually don't expect these to appear, so…here. As thanks."

I nod slowly and pick up the green marble from her hands. It's…shiny? What did she call this again, a baby fire? But Shera looks happier, so I slip the marble into my pocket.

"Bye now!" She exits the door, clicking it shut softly behind her. I take a look at the clock. It's been almost an hour and a half since I came down. I slept, I showered, I ate food, I packed food, what am I missing.

Silver! Where's Silver?

With that I grab my takeout and run out the door.

* * *

"Oh that guy? Yeah, I saw him. He left about an hour ago, toward the Nibel Mountains. He looked pretty strong."

I gap. Then I start fuming. Silver, I thought we were in this together!

"Are you planning to go after him? I can sell you some supplies! Those mountains are pretty treacherous, you know. Especially in this season, it's dragon hatching season, and those buggers are hungry! Plus it's impossible to get through the mountains without a map. Do you need a map? I can sell you a map!"

Why are you so enthusiastic this early in the morning right after your rocket failed? Not that I want him to be depressed, but this guy is really…pushy.

"I've got the best selection of weapons in all of Rocket Town! I've got your swords here, your guns, your armlets, your rings…"

I want to say that I have no cash on my whatsoever, but shopkeepers never like to hear that. But do I have anything to trade…?

"U-uh, excuse me?" The weapons shopkeeper stops rambling and turns to me. "I've got this…" I pull out the green marble.

"Ooh, so you're a materia user huh! Not to worry, I've got all the armlets you need right here! See this gold armlet?" He swipes a bracelet off a shelf and waves it under my nose. "Not only does it increase your defense, but it has not one, but two linked slots! Just slip the corresponding materia in these slots, and you'll be casting magic like never before! All this for 3000 gil!"

Fuck no I don't have that kind of money. But wait. Did he say magic? I give him a skeptical look. "Oh really. Wearing this," I poke a finger at the bracelet, "is going to help me cast 'magic'. How do I know it's not a scam covered in gold paint?"

Then again, the monsters from yesterday suggest this is a different world already, what else is new?

The shopkeeper sputters. "Me? A scammer? No, I assure you we only sell the most authentic golden armlets here! Allow me to demonstrate!" He plucks a green marble out of his own pocket, clips it into the slot, then fits the armlet onto his arm. "Behold, the great magic, Restore!"

A green sparkling haze rises toward me and I step back, closing my eyes and bracing myself. It tingled as it washed over my body, then dissipated.

Nothing happened.

"Well? Do you feel refreshed, traveler, from all your aches and pains?"

The look I give him is even more dubious. "No, not really." I had a good rest last night. Assuming that was supposed to do what I think it does, it wouldn't have had an effect anyway.

He slumps. "Damn," he pouts, "but my mom won't let me use anything else." I keep staring at him, waiting, and he folds further. "Look," he whispers, leaning close, "I'm not actually the shopkeeper here. My uncle is but he has a hangover, so I'm filling in right now."

Well doesn't that sound familiar.

"Look," he adds, glancing around furtively, "I guarantee this armlet works. My uncle really does have the best weapons shop around. I can let you take it for a test run, try it out in the field." He passes the armlet to me, and I take a hold of one end. But he doesn't let go. "But you have to promise me that you'll bring it back!"

Maybe it does work, maybe it doesn't work, but this is too good to pass up.

"I promise."

"Promise!"

"I promise!"

"Promise!"

"Cross my heart and hope to die!"

That throws him off. "I've never heard that phrase before," he says, "but okay." He let's go. "Good luck looking for your friend."

"And be careful out there! Those dragons really are vicious I hear!"

"And don't chip the paint! It is gold, but it also has gold paint!"

"And don't dent it either! My uncle will kill me if you do!"

"And wait!" I'm almost to the door. "Do you need that map?"

Well I'm willing to bet that _Silver_ doesn't have one. That amnesiac idiot. I bet he still doesn't have a weapon either. Dragons?

"Sure."

The people here are really nice, aren't they.

* * *

And there you have it! Thanks for reading, and reviews are welcome!


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